


I'm Stepping Out With A Memory Tonight

by Winginblood



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1552973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winginblood/pseuds/Winginblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been over 70 years since Steve had had a night on the town with Bucky and he's hoping there will be many more after tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Stepping Out With A Memory Tonight

The tidal wave of nostalgia that had followed the impact of Captain America’s return to the land of the living, bringing with it a revival of the big band sound, numerous swing and jazz themed clubs and bars, and an influence on the world of fashion for a season or two, had receded in the intervening two years. Most of the clubs had closed and reinvented themselves to jump on the next bandwagon that rolled along but a couple remained and one of them became a semi-regular haunt for the Avengers. Not all of them every time but there was a core – Natasha, Clint and Steve, Phil too although not as often as he would have liked – that made a point of making the effort of finding a free evening at least once a month to hang out, chat and dance the night away. When they had started, Steve had thought it was just another way of SHIELD keeping tabs on him but Clint and Natasha’s enthusiasm and clear disappointment when work got in the way of their plans quickly disabused him of that notion.

There was a new addition to their merry little band this evening. Well, not _new_ exactly but it had been over 70 years since Steve had had a night on the town with Bucky, Steve had lost count of the number of clubs and dance halls Bucky had dragged him along too on an ill fated double date, and Steve was fervently hoping Bucky would join them on many more occasions. 

As was usual, it hadn’t taken long for Natasha to persuade one of them up to dance, Clint first this evening, but it didn’t seem all that long to Steve before his eyes were tracking them across the dance floor as Clint guided them back around and extracted himself from Natasha’s light grasp and made his escape to their booth to flop down mock exhaustedly beside Phil.

Natasha followed him over and stood at the end of their table, hands on her hips. “You wimping out on me, Barton?”

Clint laughed. “Baby girl, I got bruises in places even Coulson don't know I have places.” 

He almost got the beer bottle he had picked up to his lips when Phil reached out and switched it for a bottle of water instead and said, “Which is why you’re not drinking on top of your pain meds.” 

“Meanie,” Clint said mildly but didn’t object further. He waved his hand across the table as he took a quick gulp of his water. “I’m sure one of these fine gentlemen would love to oblige and trip the light fantastic with you instead.”

Natasha's bright eyes turned to Steve then slid over to Bucky, who was tapping his foot and beating out the rhythm with his fingers on the table, as she held out her hand. “C'mon. Let's see if you’re as good as Steve keeps saying you are.” 

Steve, Phil and Clint sat for a while, chatting and watching the couples moving around the floor, Steve’s eyes mostly fixed on Natasha and Bucky, until Phil decided to go up to the bar for another round. He didn’t take too much persuading to add in a beer for Clint, mostly just Clint leaning the side of his head on Phil’s shoulder and looking up at him with sad, pleading eyes and a slight pout, although he grumbled as he squeezed past Clint, “Don’t be expecting me to carry your over medicated ass home.”

“I’ll be fine. Got Cap for that.” Clint grinned and slid further round into the booth to sit closer to Steve once Phil had gone. “Hey, don’t look so glum, chum. She’ll dance with you later. She’s just trying to make sure he feels welcome and included. You’re still her best guy.”

Steve smiled and glanced over to Clint. “Oh, I think that title is still yours. And it’s fine.” He looked back over to the dancing couples, tipping his bottle towards Bucky in acknowledgement when he caught Steve’s eye then draining the contents when Bucky laughed at something Natasha said and spun them further away. “In fact, it’s pretty much how all these kinda nights used to go, me sitting nursing a beer while he charmed the prettiest girl in the room, so weirdly it feels good. It’s really great to see him laughing and smiling again.”

When Phil arrived back at their booth he smiled at the quiet ‘thanks’ and ‘don’t worry, I’ll take it slow’ he received when he handed over Clint’s beer. 

Clint took a few slow sips then leaned closer to Steve and said, “You should ask him. You know you’re dying too.”

“Hmmm, what?” Steve asked, distracted as Bucky and Natasha glided smoothly past their table again and Bucky released his grasp of Natasha’s waist and twisted his arm to send her spinning around under their linked hands before pulling her close again. 

“Barnes. Ask him to dance. Or am I reading you wrong?” 

Steve gave Clint long look. Clint knew about Steve’s attraction to Bucky, knew about the comfort they had occasionally sought in each other when growing up, but this was the first mention of it since he’d got Bucky back. It was the first mention of it since Steve had shared the information with Clint on the night Clint had gotten apocalyptically drunk when they had still thought Phil was dead and Clint had told Steve that they had been together for ten years. How he had known the risks but never thought he would have to deal with Phil being gone. How he had never expected to outlive his husband. How the only thing he regretted was the time they had wasted dancing around their feelings for each other for so long before manning up and just going for it. Steve hadn’t even been sure Clint had remembered the conversation. 

Clint simply looked back at him, smiling hopefully and nodding. 

Steve didn’t think, in this at least, that he was as brave as Phil and Clint had been. 

“No,” he said as he turned his gaze back to the dance floor and picked up his Guinness to take a long swallow.

“Go on,” Clint insisted with a nudge of his elbow to Steve’s arm. “Nobody's gonna mind. Guys dance with each other all the time these days.”

“If that’s true then why have I never seen you and Phil dance together any time we’ve been here?” The question was a little unfair, Steve knew that. While Clint and Phil were no longer as secretive about their relationship, their love for one another, after Phil’s one too many near (or in this case _actual_ ) death experiences they were still discreet and didn’t feel a need to shove it in people’s faces. But that was exactly what Clint was suggesting Steve do by telling him to dance with Bucky so Steve felt justified. 

“Ah, well, you see, that's because...ok, I'm about to reveal something that is so very 'eyes only' I’m not even sure Fury has clearance. I mean it’s _beyond_ classified. The most secretest secret you ever heard. So sssshhhh. No telling.” Clint leaned in close to Steve and raised his left hand to the right side of his mouth as if he was trying to stop Phil from hearing him and stage whispered, “Phil can't dance.”

“I can dance.”

“No, Phil, light of my life.” Clint was smiling as he turned to Phil and slid a palm over his thigh. “You really can’t.”

“Yes. I can,” Phil said firmly, eyes sparkling with amusement and memory. “I danced with you at my sister’s wedding.” 

“That wasn’t real dancing, Phil.” Clint squeezed Phil’s thigh. “That was you, three sheets to the wind, shuffling your feet around while grabbing my butt before trying to drag me up to our suite. 

Clint turned back to Steve. “No really, honest to god, give him a gun and an asshole to chase and bring down and he's like super coordinated, a dream to watch. Poetry in motion. The Baryshnikov, no you won’t know, Nureyev, damn still not...”

“Nijinsky,” Phil suggested

Clint’s head tilted back but he didn’t look at Phil. “Was that not a horse?”

“Was a dancer first. Very famous. Turn of the last century.”

“Huh.” Clint’s eyebrow raised in question. “Nijinsky?”

Steve smiled and nodded, once again appreciating the effort Clint would go to find references he would get.

“Right. This guy...” Clint hooked a thumb at Phil. “The Nijinsky of field ops. Anywhere near a dance floor? Fucking...” Clint cast around, literally, hands moving in the air, for an apt reference that Steve would get, suddenly grinning and snapping his fingers as he found the perfect one. “Bambi on ice.” 

Steve laughed out loud as Phil reached up to Clint’s chin to turn him back around, smiling as he said, “Bambi? Really? That’s the best you could come up with? I was kinda hoping for something a bit more macho than that, Flower.”

Clint grinned as he moved further into Phil’s space and kissed him. “Oh, baby. I’m Thumper all day long and you know it.”

Natasha rolled her eyes as she slid into the booth beside Phil and said, a little breathlessly, “I don’t even want to know what that conversation was about. Okay, Steve. Your turn.”

Steve shook his head and pushed Clint’s water towards her. “You look like you could do with a break first. I can wait.”

The tug on his hand had Steve halfway out of the booth before he knew what was happening and he looked up to see Bucky beaming at him. 

“I can’t.”


End file.
